Remember the last time you read a 5 star book?

Maybe it was the last book you read. Maybe it's been a while and you're in a disappointing streak. (If not, we've all been there, so it's probably still memorable.) But recall that last book, the one that made you feel something and want to just immerse yourself in the story.

Think of the last time you were sad a story had to end.

There's hope in stories that we can't find in the real world. To paraphrase J.R.R. Tolkien from one of his essays, when you read a story, you're seeing the same dragons you're fighting in real life. But fairy tales give you the knowledge and the confidence to slay the dragon.

All of us have read stories like that--stories that slay the dragons and help us to fight another day. Maybe you've got a mere handful--maybe you have dozens. But you do have at least a couple stories that are special to you.

So now, consider for a moment: every one of those books was once a document on someone's computer or a manuscript under their pen, a story that they had to decide to keep writing.

Every one of those books was a story that they had to push through edits and go through doubt and wonder, at least a thousand times, if it was worth it. 

And yet, after all the steps, all the times it would be easier to stop, they still decided, executively, to push through. Their books got published. Their books got put into your hands.

And their books were able to help make your life better.

Your story will, someday, do the same thing for somebody else.

Think about that--your book, a 5 star novel on someone's shelf. That they're taking pictures of for Bookstagram. That they're listing on their top ten books of the year list.

Your book could be someone's favorite novel, the one they go to when they're scared or sad or alone, the one that they hold close to their hearts in darkness.

It could be the story that saves someone's life.

So keep writing, dear one. We need your words. We need to know what He gave you. Last week I talked about how God gives you words, and gave you the stories that you're writing. So now I encourage you--be bold to write it. And keep going.

We need your words.

 college drains you. they don't tell you that beforehand. 

it's a time of productivity, yes. but more than that, it is a time of struggle. you're bouncing between burnout and caffeine overcompensation. if you have a spark, you run. you run and run. and then, because you didn't ration it, because you just ran, you hit burnout even faster. 

we gotta finish the book. We gotta, we gotta, we gotta. I have to. But how can I when words will not come? How can I when the book I truly want to write has burned itself out and vanished? All the stories are gone, hidden somewhere I can't find them. I wander around through the darkness, trying so hard to find the one I can't quite see. My words are hidden.

If I never write again, am I truly an author? If my ideas are dead...who am I? Was writing something fun I did, that now is little more than a chore? Will my ideas ever flood in again like they did when I was younger?

Tired. Burnt out. These are words that matter. For some people, writing is a job. For me, it was a joy. But suddenly, I was tired, and keeping my own head up became the only thing I was capable of. Then getting those grades became far more important. And now...what? As the world grows wearier and I sigh with exhaustion?

I just want to write something that matters. As I delve deeper into great literature through my college, I realize that stories need to mean something. They need prose you can analyze, symbolism that burns, lines that bring tears to your eyes. No wonder a lot of modern stuff feels empty. No wonder I can read a book with a perfectly pleasing plot and it still feels hollow.

That's what I want to write. I want to write the next book that means something. I want my stories to be full of grit and meaning and grief and symbolism and a story that sticks with you long after you finish. It needs to mean something. It needs to not be hollow.

And that's a tall order, especially for a twenty-year-old college student.

So I'm going to keep writing. I'm going to pull myself along. I'm going to struggle, but I will write again. I will write many more words. And they will be beautiful.

And I hope someday, people can read them.